


Year One

by Slaymin



Series: Freckled Wizard Diaries [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Friendship/Love, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Very Mild Language, a lot of snk relationships show up, and HP parallels, and magical stuff, but mostly jean/marco, hanji is hanji as always, lots of friendly stuff, there are a lot of SNK parallels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaymin/pseuds/Slaymin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story of how a Muggle born boy from the hard streets of New York City known as Marco Bodt meets a Pureblood boy from the romantic land of Paris known as Jean Kirstein on their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding. Just add in almost every major character from Shingeki no Kyojin and you've got yourself a simple story of friendship and the blossoming of young love, with a dash of charms, dark magic, and moving staircases. (How deep.)</p><p>First of seven years.</p><p>A Harry Potter AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year One

**Author's Note:**

> [My Blog](http://shingekinotaylor.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to my editors: [Kya](http://the-glasses-character.tumblr.com/) and [Bella](http://wagstail.tumblr.com/). Couldn't have done it without your help. Kissies.

_Dear Diary,_

_It’s me, Marco. I can’t believe that I’m actually saying, well writing, this. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve opened this book, about six years I think and I can’t believe I even thought about bringing this here. Reading about how I liked to watch TV while eating ice cream on the weekends brings me back to the time when everything was so much simpler than this. But it’s not anymore. I’m a fourth year at this literally magical school known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and well, I think I’m in love. I know that sounds extremely far-fetched and well, crazy, but I think I am. But here’s the catch, it’s a boy. His name is Jean, my best friend. And I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest every time he smiles at me or when he says my name. I feel like whenever I see him, with his robe and his ever beautiful smirk, my heart is going to explode into a flurry of butterflies and vomit. Yes, vomit. I've never felt these feelings before, for anybody, girl or boy. And honestly, I don’t know what to do which may be the reason that I’m writing them down here. I guess I believe that writing my feelings down will help me get past them because I’m almost completely positive Jean would never feel the way I feel. So, if I’m ever going to get past these feelings of longing and subsequent sorrow, I guess I should probably start from the beginning. Of how I, Marco Bodt, a muggle-born boy from New York City, ended up here in England at the largest and most famous wizarding school in the world, and how I ended up this way, curled upon my bunk, dreaming, awake and asleep, of him, Jean Kirstein, the most amazing boy I've ever met._

              So here it goes.

 

* * *

 

 

                I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a cloudy day, the sun barely peeking through the clouds in intermittent bursts of light. Rain came down in small increments, but of course, we came prepared with umbrellas because London was known for a handful of things, which included but was not limited to: Big Ben and rain. My mom kept a firm grip on Maggie’s petite hand as we made our down the crowded Kings Cross Station. There were so many people. Most were English businessmen, with their telltale suits and large suitcases with newspapers in their free hand. Of course, we were used to packed stations like this as we had to navigate all of the crazy New York City subway stations and all of the “color” they offered, if you know what I mean.

                “7.” My mom stated as we passed Platform 7, adorned with the same number in both hanging sign and plaque form. _London sure knows how to decorate._ “8.” Maggie followed suit as we passed Platform 8.

                “9!” I exclaimed as we came to Platform 9. I took out the letter than I had gotten three months prior by an owl. Yes, an owl. _Platform 9 ¾._ I didn’t see a Platform 9 _¾_. Only a 9 and a 10. Now where was this “Platform 9 ¾?”

                “Marco? Didn’t the letter say like 9 _¾_ , or something like that?” My mom asked as she and my little sister looked around for some sort of sign to where to go next.

                “It did…”

                “Do you know where it might be?”

“I don’t know Mom.” I took a deep sigh. Of course, it was too good to be true. What was a boy like me, Marco, who had never even ridden a subway without his mom before, supposed to do at a school like Hogwarts? Why did we just spend my mom’s entire Summer Break bonus on a bunch of books about Magical Creatures and how to make Potions? “Maybe we’ll never find Platform 9 _¾._ Maybe we should just go h-”

                “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear you. Are you looking for Platform 9 _¾_?” I turned around to see a boy, no older than me, with a luggage cart just like mine, three suitcases, a messenger bag, and an owl in a cage.

                “Um, yeah, I am.” I replied. “Do you know where it is? As you can see, my family and I are pretty lost.”

                “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He put out his right arm. I instantly shook it. “I’m Jean Kirstein.”

                “Nice to meet you, Jean.” _What a pretty name. Like Jean Valjean from Les Miserables that one musical that my mom and I used to pass when she used to take me on her UPS routes._ “I’m Marco Bodt.”

                “And I’m Maggie!” Maggie jumped up and waved towards Jean.

                “Thank you, Jean, for helping us. I’m his mom, Martha.” My mom said to the kind stranger.

                “Of course, Mrs. Bodt. If I hadn’t have come here to drop off my brother when he was attending Hogwarts, I would be as lost as you guys.” He chuckled.“But, lucky for you, I know what I’m doing.”

                “Gee, thanks!” I responded. His brashness was, refreshing, and not unfamiliar. I DID grow up in New York City for eleven years.

                “Follow me.” He said. He then did the most amazing thing I had ever seen in the entire world up until then. He backed up and with a dash, he ran straight towards the pillar between the train platforms and disappeared. Yes, he disappeared right before my eyes.

                “Umm…” I stuttered as I looked on dumfounded at what I had just seen. “What just happened?”

                “I guess you just run into the pillar,” my mom said. “Pretty crazy.”

                “What if it doesn’t work?” I asked, afraid of looking like a dumbass in front of the passerby making their way through the station.

                “Marco.” Maggie pulled me towards her mouth, “YOLO.” She whispered. That was all I needed to hear. My mom stopped me before I ran through the pillar, giving me one last kiss goodbye. I gave Maggie a huge hug, spinning her around. And as quickly as I ran towards the pillar, I was in a whole different world. A world completely different than the one that I had just left my mom and little sister in.

                I spun around slowly, taking everything in. The overflowing amount of people, kids my age and kids that were twice my height, bustling to and from the one long red train in front of me. It read, “Hogwarts Express” in giant gold letters. Owl feathers littered the station as the caged birds that belonged to a massive amount of the students flitted their wings. Somehow, someway, I was in a magical new world, and I loved it.

                “Marco? Is that you?” I turned around to see Jean running up towards me, his luggage cart gone. “What took you so long? I was wondering if you had hit your head or something.”

                “Of course I didn’t. I just had to say goodbye to my family. That’s all.”

                “That’s nice.” He smiled and ushered me to follow him. “Well, come with me. I saved you seat.”

                “Thanks.” I smiled and followed him down the platform.

                We entered the red train and turned right towards the First-Years’ train car. Jean waved hi to a bunch of people that we passed by, people that I had never seen before. Which made sense. I wasn’t from the magical world like I supposed Jean was. Which made it even more special that he would offer to help me, let alone save me a seat. We passed a kind-looking woman pushing a cart brimming to the top of delicious looking candy and my eyes burst in need. Need, not want.

                “Don’t worry, Marco. There will be plenty of time to buy sweets after we’ve put our luggage away.” Jean told me, obviously noticing the lust in my eyes and drool starting to form in my mouth as I imagined what it would taste like devouring the chocolate frogs that had caught my eye. All I could do was grin like an idiot. _This guy can read me better than my own mom can. How is this even possible?_

We got to the second to last room in the train car where Jean had already packed his belongings above his seat on the left. His owl, Mina, stood perched in her now opened cage, staring at her master and then her master’s company, AKA me. She let out a cry before flying onto Jean’s shoulder. “She’s very friendly.” Jean smiled, motioning me to pet her. I did so and she stretched out her wings and I could swear I could see her smiling. “She likes you.” Jean smiled at how well Mina was taking to me.

                I started to take my luggage off the cart and placing it in the racks above my seat, which was directly across from Jean’s. I had just gotten to my biggest suitcase, which held most of my clothes, a bunch of my favorite books that I just had to bring along, and of course the textbooks that were required of me to buy. I was about to give it a final push onto the rack when the train did the chimichanga and I fell back. That’s when Jean flew in for the rescue, catching me and saving my suitcase in the process. “Thanks.” I said. He gave a nod in acknowledgement and let go. When I tried to put it back up again, he helped me and we got it in on the first try. In my defense, it WAS heavy. “What do you even have in there?” He asked as we both sat down, both of our belongings safely packed away.

                “Clothes and books.” I replied.

                “Felt like a dead body and cinderblocks, if you ask me.” Jean replied, smiling as he stroked Mina’s soft feather coat.

                “If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.” I told him, my face as serious as a statue. He sat there, immediately more uncomfortable. I couldn’t keep the act up and broke out into a smile, and then a laugh. Jean followed suit. It must have been a humorous picture for the cart lady who had just arrived.  
                “Anything from the trolley, dears?” She asked, smiling. I put my hands into my pockets, took out my wallet, and watched as three bats and a puff of dust flew out. _Damn, my mom said she’d send money on Monday when she got her paycheck. Guess I don’t get any chocolate frogs. Damn. They look so good._ And while I was pondering my imagination of how delicious frogs in chocolate form might be, I guess Jean had already forked over I don’t how much money, and bought out almost half of the cart. “Safe passage to you dears.” The lady thanked him. “Thank you very much.” He replied back as she continued her rounds.

                I was only able to muster out the word “whoa” when I saw the vastness of the sugar mountain that Jean just bought. He winked at me before handing me half of it. “Oh no, I can’t take it, Jean.” I told him. “You paid for that.”

                “Nonsense,” he smiled, “I paid for both of us. Just consider it a loan. I expect repayment of some kind in the future.” The aroma of the plethora of candy was becoming too much for me, my mouth couldn’t keep from drooling. I wiped away my liquid sweet lust and graciously, maybe too enthusiastically, took his gift.  I took in a giant sniff of the candy, the smells piercing through their plastic and paper wrappings, sending me to a state of euphoria. I couldn’t remember the last time I really had candy.

                Jean saw me go straight to the chocolate frog first. “You have to open the chocolate frogs really carefully or they mi-” Too late. The frog took advantage of a split second hesitation on my part and made a mad dash towards the window which was now showing an ever-moving landscape of the British countryside. Apparently, the train had started moving and I hadn’t even noticed. “Oh my God, what do I do?” I asked frantically. I was not about to let chocolate literally jump away from me. “Catch it!” Jean said, laughing as I tried my hardest to catch that darn frog. It was just too fast and too small. Every time I thought I had it, it jumped the opposite direction. With every botched attempt at catching that damn frog, I became ever more flustered. My face red with anger, my palms sweaty with anxiety. I just wanted my damn chocolate.

                And of course, there sat Jean, laughing like an idiot at me and my unsolvable dilemma. His dirty blonde hair, jumping every time he reeled his head back in his raucous giddiness at my expense. “You’re going to make me pee, man.” He said, holding onto his gut. “Maybe if you’d pee, then I’d be able to laugh at you then.” I retorted. He stuck his tongue out at me and I did the same. That’s when I felt something jump onto my head. I stood very still and slowly turned to look at my reflection in the window. There it was, my coveted chocolate frog, sitting in the middle split of my hair. I turned to look at Jean and with a nod of acknowledgement from him, I captured the frog in one quick motion, like swatting a fly.

                “There you go, buddy.” Jean congratulated me with a pat on the shoulder as I devoured the frog. The satisfaction of knowing that I caught the little bugger made it taste that much sweeter. Like take a Hershey’s chocolate bar and sprinkle some unicorn tears and angel tears and you’ve got yourself a chocolate frog. “Tastes pretty good, doesn’t it?”

                “’Pretty good?!’” I asked in utter bewilderment. This was literally the best thing I had tasted since, I don’t when, and Jean would dare say it tasted “Pretty good?” “This chocolate is the reason why we’re alive!” All Jean could respond with was an infectious laugh because before I knew it, I was laughing with him too. And there we were, two kids laughing our asses off at a chocolate frog.

                “So what card did you get?” Jean asked after our laughter subsided.

                “Card?” I confusedly asked.

                “Y’know, chocolate frogs always come with a collectable card of a famous witch or wizard.” Jean explained. “I’ve collected almost every one except for Levi Ackerman, Hanji Zoë, and Erwin Smith.” The need in his eyes when he said the names of the cards he didn’t yet have was enough to make me feel for the guy. I used to collect Pokemon cards when I was younger and before my family hit a tough spot where we couldn’t afford many luxuries like playing cards or candy. “Oh okay, let’s see.” I scrambled to find the card in the pile of candy that was still next to my seat. I found it after pushing aside two cans of Bertie Bodt's Every Flavour Beans and some Pumpkin Pasties.

                “Hanji Zoë,” I started to read, smiling because this had to be one of the cars Jean was missing. Right after I said those two words, Jean’s eyes shot up as quickly and his hands snatched the card from my hands faster than you could say “thief.” “Magical creature enthusiast who helped usher in a new era of understanding of all kinds of creatures. Discovered the elusive Alicorn and was the first to ever record the existence of trash-eating beings she known as Titans. Her obsessive nature towards her study is the indisputable reason she is unparalleled in her field.” Jean read the card, his grin making it seem sure that his face was going to explode. “You know,” he started with a sly look in his eye. “I paid for this, so technically, this is my card.”

                “Um, no.” I replied, taking back my card. “You gave this to me as a gift, so technically, it’s mine.”

                “Come on, Marco.” Jean begged, “I NEED this card. Please.”

                “You just look so helpless when you beg. So of course I’ll give it to you.” I told him, “My gift from your gift to you.” _Did that even make sense? Nnope._

                “You’re Freckled Jesus, man.” Jean said as he kissed his Hanji card. A halo appeared above my head after he called me that. _I am the Savior. Of eleven year old boys who need chocolate frog cards to feel complete._ “I can’t wait to add this my collection!” I guess that’s all it takes to make an eleven year old boy to regard someone as they lord and savior.

                “You’re going to have to show me your entire collection sometime, you know.” I told him after he stopped dancing like a maniac in his seat as Mina cooed and cawed.

                “Sorry, Marco. No one can see my collection until it’s completed, and with this card,” He held up his Hanji card, kissing it again, “I am only two away!” He tucked his new card into his wallet and that’s when I saw another picture of Hanji, hugging Jean.

                “Lemme see that.” I said before eloquently snatching the picture of Hanji and Jean away from him. “Isn’t this the lady from the card?” I asked him, bewildered at why he had a picture of her in his wallet, let alone one of them hugging.

                “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Hanji is my Godmother.” Jean said, taking back his picture and tucking it away, away from my prying eyes. “How could you forget to mention something like that?!” I exclaimed. “She like has her own playing card.” _I wish I had my own playing card._

                “Well yeah, it’s great and all.” Jean started, looking down. “But like when you know someone as famous as Hanji Zoë, let alone have them be your Godmother, people treat you differently. Like if they say one wrong thing to me they think I’ll go blab to her and then she would rain down all hell on them. Which she would if someone really did mess with me.”

                “And you don’t want people to treat you differently. You want people to treat you like Jean Kirstein, the boy, not Jean Kirstein, Hanji Zoë’s Godson.” I finished for him.

                “You understand me. Wow.” Jean looked astonished. “You won’t treat me differently, right?” He asked me, dead serious.

                “Well of course, Jean.” I told him. “And in all honesty, I had no idea who Hanji Zoë was before I opened the card.” I confessed.

                “What?!” He asked astonished once more but in a completely different way. “How can you not know about Hanji Zoë? She is like one of the most famous wizards since Harry Potter!”

                “Umm. And that’s supposed to mean something to me?” I asked, rather sarcastically which may not have been the best idea.       

                “HAVE YOU LIVED UNDER A ROCK FOR THE LAST ELEVEN YEARS?” He screamed, slapping his hands on the table between us. “I bet you don’t even know who Dumbledore is either!”

                “Twelve years actually. And I do know who Taylor Swift is.” I said, giving an uncomfortable smile. Maybe my boyish charm and supposedly adorable freckles would cool him down. They didn’t.

                “I can’t believe this.” He mumbled. “I’ve made friends with someone who doesn’t even know who Harry Potter is. A Mudblood.”

                “Sorry that I don’t know about these so called famous wizards.” I replied, sliding back into my seat, shrinking with every passing second. That’s when Jean’s whole demeanor changed. He went from raging Harry Potter fanboy to sympathetic friend in like two seconds flat. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” He apologized. “I didn’t even think- Oh God, you probably think I’m the worst person in the entire world.”

                “No. I don’t.” I said, wiping away one small tear that had developed in my eye after he called me that name. A name I didn’t even know. But for some reason, it made me feel like I wasn’t worth the grime in the sewers. Like a sewer rat would be worth more. “But could you not call me that name again? I don’t know what it means but it really hurt. And I don’t know why.”

                “Of course, Marco.” Jean replied. “I can’t believe that I said it. It was a mean thing to say and I’m sorry. I’ve never used it before and I promise to never use it again. It’s what the bad guys back in the nineties used to say.” He chuckled and I looked at him inquisitively. “You know what they say-” Another chuckle. “Only 90’s kids will remember.” I subsequently launched a nasty looking jelly bean at his head and he caught it in his mouth. “10 points for Gryffindor!” He exclaimed. I met that exclamation with yet another inquisitive look. He laughed.

“By the way,” I started. “What does Mudblood even mean?” I didn’t even like how the name sounded on my lips. Like it was a curse word.

                “It’s what stuck-up wizards back in the day used to call wizards whose parents were both from the non-magical world, also called Muggles.” Jean started. “And then people who had both parents that came from the magical world whose parents came from the magical and so on, were called Purebloods. And someone who had one parent from the magical world and one from the Muggle world, were called Halfbloods. Purebloods like to make Muggle-borns feel like that didn’t belong and even went as far as saying that they stole magic from a Pureblood or Halfblood which then led to Muggle-borns even being murdered. Crazy.”

                “That IS crazy. It’s kinda like how Black people were lynched all the time in America back in the olden days just for being Black.” Jean nodded.

                “Well, Jean,” I started, “What are you?”

                “One of the last remaining Purebloods. My family has stayed pretty exclusive in the magical world for centuries.”

                “So basically, you’re like royalty?”

                “Hah, no.” He dismissed. “Being a ‘Pureblood’ and being a ‘Halfblood’ doesn’t really matter anymore, like no one really cares. Only the hardcore ‘Purebloods’ care. And nobody really cares about those people anymore.”

                “Thanks for teaching me that Jean. Now I know a little more about the world I’m about to jump into.”

                “Stick with me, Bodt, and you’ll be okay.” I smiled and he smiled. _God, I really hope I’ll be okay._

 

* * *

 

               

                For a while after that both of just looked out the window at the landscape that was still unfolding before our eyes. Luscious greens, hills for miles, blue skies darkening slowly. The train track made its way, winding and turning, with the hills. Not cutting through them like I had seen in some pictures of American highways. The train kept a steady pace as it made its way over lakes, through wooded forests, and passing so many horses. Nothing like the Big Apple where I had grown up for the past twelve years. The most nature I saw on a daily basis in NYC was Central Park and the two trees in front of my family’s apartment complex. It was a nice change of pace for me, honestly. One can start to feel suffocated by the high-rises and New York inhospitality.

                In New York, there were no people like Jean who would have come up to a boy would like me in a subway station if I looked lost like I did at Kings Cross Station. Most people would just walk by, most not even sparing a passing glance at a confused looking twelve year old. Maybe it was the fact that I was a kid like him so he felt comfortable coming up to me. Or maybe it was something else. But it probably just was the fact that he felt sorry for me. A lot of people did, honestly.

                “So where are you from, Marco?” Jean asked after he finished looking out the window like I still was, gawking. “Um.” I stuttered, caught off guard. I had grown used to the silence. “New York City.”

                “Really? That’s so cool!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been there like three times on family vacations. Have you ever been to Le Bernardin? Every time my family goes there, we always go there.” His mouth started to water with just the name of the fancy restaurant that I constantly roller skated by on second-hand roller skates that my mom got at a shady garage sale for my four birthday.

                “I’ve seen it but I’ve never actually eaten there.” I replied, leaving out the second-hand roller skates. My family couldn’t even afford to buy candy most of the time, so there was no way that would be able to afford one breadstick or whatever they sell at that fancy dining establishment.

                “Oh.” He thought for a second, with a telltale eyebrow frown discerning his thought process. “How about Del Posto?” I shook my head again. And again. And again. Jean had been to a lot of amazing restaurants. His idea of a fancy meal and my idea of a fancy meal were millions of galaxies apart. He ate caramelized duck breast with a dash of cilantro and I ate hot dogs from street corners with extra ketchup. Of course, I didn’t tell him that.

                “So where are you from, Jean?” I asked him after an uncomfortable silence of him and I having completely different views on New York City food. “Paris, France.”

                “Really?” I asked, excited. “Can you like speak French?” He nodded, somewhat uncomfortably.

                “Tell me something in French.” I told him. And after a time of nagging and him protesting, he finally gave in when I threatened to tickle him. I saved that threat in the back of my mind.

                “Here it goes.” He cleared his throat. “Ne me demandez pas de parler à nouveau français ou je vais vous couper les orteils.” He had a nice French accent when he actually spoke in French. Which was pretty freaking cool. “What does that mean?” I asked.

                “Don't ask me to speak French again or I will cut off your toes.” He told me, his eyes dead. I stuck my tongue out him after that and he threw a jelly bean at me. I failed to catch it in my mouth. “No points for Gryffindor.” I said. We both laughed. “Now, what’s a Gryffindor?” I asked in all seriousness. “All right, let’s start at the beginning.” And that’s how I somehow got an impromptu and surprisingly in depth account of the creation of Hogwarts and the history of almost all things magical or at least all the magical things I could handle in one train ride.

 

* * *

 

 

                SCREEEEEEEEEECH. “We have now arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Remember to take all belongings with you before you leave and have a magical school year.” The train driver said over the incredibly loud intercom, waking Jean and I both up. The blue skies before had been replaced with the blackest night I had ever seen. Thousands of tiny stars lit up the night sky and the moon was in full bloom.  A bunch of students began to walk past us, adorned in their robes, some carrying pets, all giddy in finally have reached our destination. That’s when Jean and I looked at each other and then our clothes. We had completely forgotten to change into our robes!

                “Oh my God.” We said in unison. What happened next is one of those “you had to be there” moments. In record time, we pulled out our suitcases, threw off our civilian clothes and fell into our robes, squirming to and fro, putting our arms into arm sleeves. After it was all said and done, more than seventy percent of the students had already exited the train. “Let’s go.” Jean said and I complied ever so willingly.

                We took one step out of the train and the rush of cold air took both of us by surprise. Our robes were not very able to protect us from the cold. “It sure is cold out.” I stated. Jean could only nod in acknowledgement, his teeth chattering louder than the crickets, or what I hoped were crickets, in the nearby bushes. “At least it’s pretty out here.” I said looking up. I had never seen so many stars before. So many stars. It was a sight to take in.  

                “All first-years make your way to the lake!” A booming voice called from the direction of a black expanse that turned out to be a giant body of water, also known as the Great Lake. “Wait, Jean!” I called to Jean who was pulling me with the rest of the moving body of excited first-years. “Our luggage!”

                “Don’t be silly, Marco.” He replied laughing. “It’ll get sent to our dorms once we get sorted into our houses. Didn’t you read the procedures in the First-Year Handbook?” He asked.

                “Umm… First-Year Handbook?” I had not gotten a handbook but it was probably one of those things that my family didn’t know about, like the amount getting a pet would cost. I really did like that tabby cat I saw in Diagon Alley but it was WAY out of our price range. “Just kidding.” Jean replied after seeing my disgruntled face in the dimly lit path to the lake where a numerous amount of boats were lined up, waiting for us. “My brother told me all about the procedure before. Like I said, stick with me and you’ll be alright.”

                “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

                “Move out of my way!” A boy with messy brown hair yelled as he tried to push his way in between Jean and I. Apparently, he was trying to catch the boat that his two best friends had gotten into while he was admiring a very pretty rock that he found. The boat he tried to catch ended up leaving without him, obviously making him quite mad. “Damn! I blame you!” He pointed to Jean square in the face. “I, Eren Jaeger, will never forgive you for getting in my way!”

                “It’s not my fault that you were slacking off, man.” Jean replied, obviously ticked off at this Eren Jaeger kid. I was kind of annoyed too but not as much as Jean was getting. “Next time maybe you shouldn’t be a slowpoke.”

                “Are you saying that it’s my fault when it’s obviously your fault, horseface?”

                “What did you just call me?!” Jean face started to redden into a long, plump tomato. I guess he sort of did have a horse-like face but calling him horseface honestly wasn’t cool.

                “Horse. Face.” Eren repeated even more meanly and slowly. This kid was just asking for a punch in the face from Jean which totally would have happened if I hadn’t stepped in. I had seen enough fights in my life from the dirty subways under New York to right in the open in broad daylight. “Enough you two.” I interjected, stepping in between the two. “Let’s just not fight okay?”

                “He started it.” Jean mumbled.

                “At least I don’t have a horseface.” Eren mumbled.

                “Enough. Let’s just get on the boats.” I told them. With that, the three of us got into the closest boat. I sat between Jean and Eren as to prevent them from killing each other. Even the other person that got into the boat after us, Thomas Wagner, noticed the tension. At first it just started with glares between the two of them. Then tongues sticking, followed by obscene hand gestures. Then Eren tried to flick Jean by extended his arm over my shoulder and towards Jean. Jean was not having any of it and tried to push him away but Eren was persistent and kept at it. And it went on like that for about five minutes. I couldn’t bring myself to yell at them, being the extremely patient person I was, until Eren tried to slap Jean.

And that’s when he accidentally slapped me and there I went off of the boat, into the Great Lake. It’s also how found out why some people called it Black Lake. The water was even blacker than the sky and even colder than New York snow. It was like I had just been taken out of the refrigerator of the dark night air and placed in the freezer of the lake. And on top of that, I was never taught how to swim. _I’m going to die here. I just know it. I’m going to die without ever being able to drive a car. I’m going to die on my way to a Wizarding school. I’m never even going to be able to attend the school. Wow. That just sucks._

I struggled to try to make my way to the surface which was barely visible with the moon’s dim light shining through the blackened lake. It felt like with every attempt to get one foot upwards I was pulled two feet downwards. I could feel my lungs being pushed on by every single drop of water, by every second in that black vacuum. I was going to die in complete darkness. _At least I wouldn’t have to see the world fade away. It’s already gone. I guess that’s an upside._

                I was about to give up on trying to escape and succumb to the fate that I was sure was in store for me when I felt a slimy thing, like a tentacle, wrap around my torso. My first reaction was to push it off, until it started to pull me up towards the moon and therefore, the surface. And air. When I broke the surface, the Tentacle didn’t let go and I could have sworn I heard both Jean yelling, “Thank the Lord,” and Eren screaming that he was sorry or something. The Tentacle carried me all the way to the boat that I had fallen off of that was still slowly making its way across the lake, carrying Jean, who looked ecstatic to see me alive, and Eren, who looked like he was going to poop his pants. The Tentacle, who had become rather warm, dropped me right between Jean and Eren again. I looked back and I still swear to this day that I saw it wave “bye.” And that’s how I met the Giant Squid that lived in the Great Lake.

                “MARCO. YOU’RE ALIVE.” Jean hugged me with all of his might, cutting off all the air that I was desperately trying to breathe in after being in the midst of the lake’s black prison. “Can’t. Breathe.” I gasped which made Jean let go, immediately followed by rushed apologies. Surprisingly enough, I wasn’t even completely drenched by the time that I got back in the boat. Not only did it save my life, but it also dried me off. What a nice squid.

                “Um… Marco.” I turned around to see a horribly embarrassed Eren, looking down at his feet, unable to look in my eyes. “I’m sorry that I pushed you into the lake. I didn’t mean to.”

                “I know you didn’t mean to Eren. What you did mean to do though, was slap my friend and I’m not okay with that. So next time you want to slap someone, don’t. Because when you do, you might push another Marco into a lake.” I told him, not meanly, but more authoritatively. I wasn’t a mean person. More a patient and a fair person. At least that’s what I thought of myself.

                “Okay.” Eren deflated but also felt a little bit better when I put my hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that I wasn’t too mad. And honestly, it was kinda fun being hoisted by a tentacle in midair. I turned around to see Jean smiling like a little kid. “What’s so funny?” I asked the absolutely giddy looking Jean.

                “You’re alive and you’re not even mad at, Him.” He stared at Eren with slanted eyes, hatred burning. “I would’ve pushed him in.”

                “He didn’t mean to, Jean. And it was kinda fun, wanna try it?” I asked, smiling slyly with my hands looking ready to push him into the lake. Of course I would never do that. We both laughed and I could still see Jean giving Eren evil glares now and again. And in no time, we were across the lake and Jean helped me out of the boat. By then, I was completely dry, middle split in my hair perfect again. If someone were to see me then, they would never have guessed that I almost died in that Black Lake. Eren brushed past me, said “sorry” again, and met up with his two friends who he had missed when Jean and I supposedly blocked his way. He met up with a short blonde kid with a bowl cut and a girl with short black hair that was a smidge taller than Eren. The girl slapped him on the head and the three of them made their way up the steps.

                I looked up to see a sight that still gets me every day. The castle must have gone up for miles, well not really, but it sure seemed like it. The stones were rusted over and looked ancient but were as sturdy as any of the new skyscrapers that would pop up in New York every couple of years. It was basically a giant castle but also so much more than that. It had giant towers where Princess Fiona would have been held captive and spires that would have impaled even the strongest of armor if dropped on them. And then there were the front doors. The greatest front doors I had ever seen in my life. They must have been three stories tall, with two giant door handles that were way too high for any human being to reach without like getting on top of one another like those creepy barrel of monkeys. In one word, Hogwarts was breathtaking.

                “Marco, come on, we’re slacking.” Jean ushered me to quicken my pace that had slowed down while I was taking in all that was Hogwarts. “Alright, Jean. Not so rough.” I told him as he tugged on my arm up the steps. We made it into the foyer where a bunch of the first-years were already gathered. I looked around and saw all the different faces in all the same robes. _All of these kids got a letter too. That’s so cool._

                “Everyone, follow me.” A man of average height, brown hair, and a serious look about his face said from the front of our group of first-years. “I will be taking you into the Great Hall where you will wait for your name to be called, no longer alphabetically, but by the date in which your enrollment was decided upon. You will then be placed into your House that you will be a part of for your entire Hogwarts career by the Sorting Hat.” I remembered Jean telling me about the Sorting Hat. It was a magical hat that was owned by the founder of Gryffindor House, Godric Gryffindor, who was also one of the four founders of Hogwarts itself. Pretty freaking cool if you asked me.

                “Come on, Marco.” Jean grabbed my arm again, cutting off circulation. “We’re going to get placed in our houses. Oh God, I want to be in Gryffindor. You know, Harry Potter was in Gryffindor and he saved the world!” Jean’s eyes lit up like fireflies when he said that. He really admired this Harry Potter guy who Jean tried to explain to me on the train ride. Unfortunately, I kept falling in and out of sleep by then so all I really caught was Harry had like a lightning scar and a snowy owl, or something. I never told Jean that I wasn’t really listening. That would have crushed him.

                “I wonder what House I’ll be placed in.” I thought out loud.

                “Hopefully, Gryffindor, like I will be.” Jean replied, squeezing my arm even harder when we neared the Great Hall. “Okay, okay. Can you let my arm breathe again?” Jean let go and we followed the continuing surge of first-years making out way into the hall.

                There were four extremely long table already crowded with the second to seventh years, all separated into their respective houses. When all of us first-years walked into the Hall, the entire building was met with a silence like nothing I had ever experienced. All of the students turned to look at us, the fresh meat. There were some cat calls for the first-years to be placed in Gryffindor followed by boos by the Slytherins.

                “Welcome all.” A booming voice came from the front of the Hall where all the teachers were sitting in their own table that could overlook all the House tables. “For all new students, my name is Headmaster Erwin. For all returning students, I welcome you back to yet another year of magic. Seventh-years, this is your last first meal. This is your last year.” The hall felt another hush as students, I assumed seventh-years, looked at each with solemn eyes. “And I implore you to make it memorable. As my father once told me, ‘These are the best years of your life. Make them count.’ And that applies to all of you as well. And with that, I welcome the newest members of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He turned to all of us first-years and flashed us a quick smile. “Professor Zoë, the Sorting Hat.” A woman, with thick, rectangle rimmed glasses, and a large ponytail came to Erwin holding in her hands a black, wrinkled hat. She gave Erwin a quick kiss on the cheek, making him blush, and returned to her seat on the Professor Table.

                “And now, the sorting begins. As you all may know, this is the Sorting Hat and it will decided what House you will be placed in for the next seven years. And without further ado, let the sorting begin.”

 

* * *

 

              

                  “Eren Jaeger.” Eren took his seat on the stool in front of everyone, smiling. Headmaster Erwin placed the Sorting Hat on his messy brown hair and came to life again. “Ahh. Eren Jaeger.” The hat began, scooting into a more comfortable position on Eren’s head. “You have much determination. Which is matched by your bravery and pride. Sometimes that turns into arrogance. I see exactly where you shall be placed. Ah hem. GRYFFINDOR!!!” The entire Gryffindor stood up to clap and congratulated their newest member. His two friends, Armin, the blonde, and Mikasa, the girl, had already been placed into Gryffindor and he found his seat right in between them, his smile seeming like it would break his face.

               

                   “Sasha Blouse.” A girl with medium length brown hair and a stolen turkey leg in her mouth made her way to the stool. Headmaster Erwin looked at her with discerning eyes. Well, mostly the turkey leg that was in her mouth. She looked around and then down at the turkey leg. “Is there something you’d like me to throw away?” Headmaster Erwin asked Sasha who was still chewing on her turkey leg, even with the entire hall’s prying eyes on her every chew. “Oh yeah!” She gave Headmaster Erwin the napkin that she had taken with the turkey leg, with the most innocent and oblivious smile I had ever seen. Honestly, I don’t think she knew that she was doing anything wrong. Which made the entire Hall erupt in laughter. Even Headmaster Erwin himself. He took the napkin, mumbled something, and it and Sasha’s turkey leg disappeared. Like magic, literally. Needless to say, Sasha almost started to burst into tears until Headmaster Erwin placed the Sorting Hat on her big ponytail and it whispered something to her that made her giggle in delight.

                “You are a delightful young soul. Innocent. Optimistic. Loving. There is no other House for you than… HUFFLEPUFF!!!” The entire Hufflepuff table stood up, congratulated their newfound member, and Sasha, by instinct, took food immediately from in front of her and inhaled it into the black hole known as her mouth.

 

                “Jean Kirstein.” Jean looked at me with nervous light brown eyes. _You’ll be okay,_ I mouthed to him. He pushed his way through the lesser crowd of first-years given that he and I were almost the last first-years left. He took his seat on the stool, looked at me again, and I gave him two gigantic thumbs up. _You’ve got this,_ I mouthed to him. _Gryffindor,_ he mouthed back, smiling. “YOU GO JEAN!” Professor Zoë yelled from her seat and then almost immediately, covered her mouth, embarrassed. The same that Jean did. Now everyone knew that Professor Zoë knew him. And Professor Zoë was super famous too. _It’s okay, Jean._ He gave me a weak smile and sat still as a rock as Headmaster Erwin placed the Sorting Hat onto him. The hat whispered something in Jean’s ear, like it did with Sasha, and he smiled again. I always wondered what it told him.

                “I remember when I sorted your brother, you know.” The Sorting Hat started. “He was a fine young man. I can see that you look up to him dearly. For good reason too. But this is about you, isn’t it?” The Hat laughed, which is still weird to write. “Let’s see… Your admiration for your older brother has resonated in you, if you didn’t already know that. I feel the same drive, the same motivation in you that I saw in him. But I also see some uncertainty. You’re not completely sure if you’re cut out to be a great leader, if you really are ready for a large amount of responsibility. You are unsure of your own strengths and this, in turn, ends up with you pushing people away. However, I do sense something greater in you. And I undoubtedly believe, and know, that the House you are meant to be in for these next seven years is… GRYFFINDOR!!!” Jean’s face shot up in sheer excitement and jubilance as he made his prideful stride to the Gryffindor table, the one thing he really wanted. _I got it!!!_ Jean mouthed to me. _I told you!_ I mouthed back. Jean smiled at me and scooted over to save a seat for me when my time came to be placed. I just HAD to be in Gryffindor now.

               

                “Marco Bodt.” It was my turn and I was the last one to get sorted. Headmaster Erwin came to me as I sat on the stool, said, and I quote, “Welcome. Are you ready?” I nodded, excitedly. I couldn’t believe I was about to sorted into a House at a school that taught kids of all kinds, from rich “Pureblood” kids like Jean to lower class “Muggle-born” kids like me. Honestly, it hadn’t really sunk in yet, even though I had traveled on a magically moving boat and saved by a Giant Squid. For some reason, it didn’t resonate in me that I was sitting in Hogwarts until the Sorting Hat spoke its first words into my ear: “I like your clean middle split, Marco. It’s a refreshing change, honestly. You have no idea how many messy haired boys I’ve had to sit upon. A lot.” I laughed, for two reasons: the hat had a good sense of humor and I was listening to a hat talk. A hat. “By the way, you smell like lake water. Did you happen to drink any?” It asked me, silent enough for only me and it to hear. “I fell into the lake.” The hat stayed silent for a second. “Did you hear that everybody?” The hat asked everyone in the Hall, “Mr. Bodt here, fell into the Great Lake on his way here!” There was a mixture of laughter at the fact someone could fall off such a slow-moving boat, clapping at the fact that I wasn’t dead, and also sympathetic looks from those that just felt plain sorry me. I even saw Jean send Eren a death threat in a stare. Needless to say, I had just been completely embarrassed by a talking hat. Okay.

                “Now, onto your Sorting.” The hat started after the populace settled down. It took in what sounded like a breath and I didn’t put it pass me that the hat actually needed to breath. It probably needed to take breathes to get ready to embarrass freckled twelve year olds like me. “You are a true and loyal friend, opting to never give up on a friend or even a stranger. You always look at both sides of any situation, offering an extremely fair and just decision even if there may be personal leanings towards one side or emotions that might cloud your judgment. Patience is second nature to you and has always been. And as such, I am one hundred and ten percent sure that the House that you are meant to be in for the next seven years is…” _Oh God, please be Gryffin-_ “HUFFLEPUFF!!!”

                And with that one word, my heart shattered. I looked out over the Hall, saw the Hufflepuff table clapping extremely loud, louder than they did for any of the other Hufflepuff first-years. I guess that should have me feel better, but it didn’t. My eyes could only gravitate towards Jean who, like me, seemed incredibly disappointed. We had made friends on the train, he showed me how to get to Platform 9 ¾, and how to catch chocolate frogs. He taught me about Purebloods, Halfbloods, the House hierarchy, the Trace that prevented anyone younger than seventeen from performing magic without being detected by the Ministry of Magic. He was the first friend that I made on my journey to Hogwarts and I was hoping that we’d become best friends and even roommates. _Sorry._ Jean mouthed to me. I could only give him a feeble smile before making my way to the Hufflepuff table.

 

* * *

 

 

                “So will you be taking that bed?” One of my fellow Hufflepuff first-years, Connie Springer, whose bald head was quite shiny, asked me as we walked into our dormitory. The Hufflepuff common room was located in the kitchens of Hogwarts, requiring a complex “barrel-knock” on the correct two barrels or one might get an unwelcome surprise of being drenched in vinegar. I liked vinegar in my salads, not my hair. I looked at the bed, a small twin sized bed with its own matching drawer and drapes like one of those princess beds you would see at any American department stores. But it wasn’t pink or purple, it was brown with tints of yellow, supposedly to reflect the colors of the earth which Hufflepuff embodied. “Sure.” I told him, rather monotone.

                Honestly, ever since the whole Sorting thing, I was rather sad. Not depressed. But sad. I just had to remind myself that I was at Hogwarts and I was just asked if I was taking a bed in a magical school’s dormitory. But, you know, I still felt sad. I sat down on my new bed, not having even started unpacking, and thought of what Jean was doing. Was he telling off Eren for pushing me into the lake without me there to mediate everything? Did he actually try to make friends with Eren? Was his bed soft like mine? Had he unpacked yet?

                “Yo, dude.” Connie said, waving his hand in front of me to try to get my attention. “Professor Zoë wants to talk to all of us. Come on.”

                “Oh yeah, okay.” I replied, slowly getting off my bed.

                “And that’s the last of you,” Professor Zoë said as Connie and I entered the foyer. There were two large couches that were placed in front of a large fireplace that constantly burned, day in and day out. There were a few small bookcases with books about farming or how to properly care for magical creatures. But the most distinguishing features of the room were the many hay stacks that were found all around the large and cozy room. They acted as chairs, as tables, almost anything. Above the fireplace was a yellow and black plaque that featured a cute badger, Hufflepuff’s emblematic animal.

                “And with everyone here,” Professor Zoë started, “I would like to formally welcome you to Hufflepuff house, the funnest and nicest house in the whole school!” She jumped up and down, smiling like an overzealous school girl. “I just know that you’re going to have the best time here, making good friends from this House, lifelong friends. And of course, you have a super fantabulous Head of House like moi.” She really was as quirky as Jean said. Or did he say crazy? I started to contemplate what Jean exactly said when he was telling me about all the famous wizards on the train. “Hey, you!” Professor Zoë pointed at me. “Are you not paying attention? Am I boring you?” She pushed her way through the first-years who had now all turned towards me, with horror in their eyes along with relief that they weren’t singled out like I just was.

                “Umm… No?” I said, in complete shock. “So what were you thinking about that had you looking around and not at the beautiful moi?” She made a stereotypical model pose after she said that which made the other first-years laugh. “I was trying to remember the word that my friend called you when we got your Chocolate Frog card on the train.” I told her truthfully.

                “A friend, you say?” She asked calmly. “Did he happen to say that I was, ‘The one earwax flavored jelly bean in the toffee pile’?”

                “That’s it!”

                “Oh, Jeanie. Never one to forget a good inside joke.” She turned away and smiled. “You know, I was so disappointed when he ended up in Gryffindor.” She turned around to all the other first-years, and made a motion across her lips that meant to keep their mouths closed and then a wink. “What’s your name again, sweetie pie?” She asked me.

                “Marco Bodt.”

                “Well, Mister Bodt, you do know that you have cool freckles?” She asked, while all my fellow classmates were still listening intently. “I’ve been told that before.”

                “So, did Jean tell you that he didn’t have my card yet? He wouldn’t let me just give him one that I had. He wanted to ‘find it with his own luck and his own power.’ Which I totally get. Like I didn’t get any help from anyone when I was in the German forests when I discovered the elusive Alicorn which is part unicorn, part Pegasus. Or when I traveled to numerous dumps in America, which by the way, have the biggest, stinkiest, and dirtiest dumps I have ever come across, to find the trash eating Titans.” She was getting really close to my face by then, her eyes giant and almost insane looking. “Oh, and another thing,” She started, turning away and walking towards the middle of the group, acting like she hadn’t just told her life story to me. “If any of you ever mess up and break a rule so bad that it has to come to me, I might be tempted to feed you to the Titans.” _Did she just say that we were trash?_ “Curfew is midnight on all days unless noted otherwise and don’t get caught wandering Hogwarts after that because there are teachers meaner and harder than me and I just threatened to feed you to monsters if you broke rules. Follow the rules and study hard and you’ll have a magical stay here at Hogwarts. And never forget my number one rule, Have Fun!” She then shot sparkles out of her hands that flitted around the room and smelled of roses and horse dung. What a combination.

 

                “Professor Zoë is kinda crazy.” Connie said as we were unpacking our clothes into our drawers. He was my bed neighbor. Of course I had wanted it to be Jean but Connie wasn’t the worst person in the world. He was actually pretty cool. “She totally freaked me out.” I told him. “I know, right? She totally got all up in your face. I don’t think she’ll be forgetting you soon, Marco.”

                “Do you boys have any food?” A voice asked from the door. It was none other than Sasha Blouse. “I’M STARVING!” She grabbed her stomach which growled like a bear.

                “Didn’t you have like four turkey legs, two giant piles of mashed potatoes, five pieces of bread, and two cans of green beans at the feast like two hours ago?” Connie asked the supposedly starving girl at our door.

                “And your point is?” She asked like the fact that she probably took in 3000 calories at that feast alone, not counting any of the other meals she must have had before getting to Hogwarts. “I NEED SUSTENANCE!!!”

                I looked in my bag and found a half-eaten jar of jelly beans that Jean and I had shared on the train. I looked at it and in no less than ten seconds it was gone out of my hands and Sasha was gone out of the room. Connie and I could only just look at each other and laugh.

               

                After we finished unpacking, I sat down on my bed and sighed. “What’s wrong?” Connie asked, noticing my sigh. “Nothing.”

                “Well, that’s a lie.” Connie said. “Tell me.”

                “I’m just sad that the friend that I made on the train, Jean, was placed in Gryffindor. I really wanted to be in the same House as him.” I told Connie.

                “Is that all? You’ll be fine.” I looked at him, questionably. He laughed. “It’s not like he’s across the world. He’s just across the school. You’ll see tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. And classes don’t start until Monday. Today’s Friday. You have a whole weekend to hang out with him.”

                “Connie, you’re pretty smart.”

                “I try. Now go to sleep. I’m scared at what Professor Zoë does to kids that stay up after midnight.”

                “I thought that was only the time you had to be in the common room?”

                “I’m not taking any chances, bro. I think that being eaten by a Titan would be one of the worst ways to die. And I have to try my chances at all the hot older girls here.”

                “Whatever you say, Baldy.”

                “Good night, Freckles.”

                 


End file.
